


here, beneath my lungs

by iphigenias



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Boyfriends, Future Fic, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: Even warlocks need taking care of every once in a while.





	here, beneath my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down to write a reaction fic to the 2x15 promo and stills and came out with this instead. i just really want my boys to be happy. title from welcome home by radical face.

Dusk settles early on New York this time of year, making the day look later than it actually is. Magnus has been out all afternoon and most of the morning too, having met Catarina for lunch between client house calls. He’s tired enough that he catches a cab instead of portalling home, texting Alec from the backseat in a rare moment of quiet.

 

(To: Alexander ❤️, 17:23)

_Home soon. Still at the Institute?_

 

He settles back into the seat, content in the knowledge that Alec will receive the text in ten minutes or so after he’s dealt with the latest Nephilim catastrophe, but to his surprise his phone pings only moments later.

 

(From: Alexander ❤️, 17:24)

_No._

_Waiting for you_

_❤️_

 

Magnus stares at the messages. Even after months of being together, Alec still manages to set his heartbeat to staccato. He doesn’t hesitate before sending a heart emoji in reply before pocketing his phone. The thought of home, already comforting, becomes warm and golden in his mind.

Traffic is unusually light, and the cab drops him off less than ten minutes later. Magnus tightens his scarf against the wind chill and hurries inside his apartment building, nudging a gentle tendril of magic into the elevator to make it run faster. There’s soft music coming from behind his door, and when Magnus steps inside it’s to the wonderful smell of Alec’s paella cooking away. He smiles, toes off his shoes at the door and unwinds his scarf to drape over the back of the sofa.

“Alexander?” he calls, padding into the kitchen to see his boyfriend standing by the stove wearing an apron over that denim shirt of his Magnus absolutely _adores_. Alec turns at the sound of his voice and smiles, enough to set Magnus’ heart off again. He takes those last few steps to meet Alec halfway in a kiss, soft and familiar and tasting of saffron. “Mmm,” Magnus says when they part, opening his eyes and resting a hand on Alec’s neck, over his deflect rune. His pinkie finger slides under the collar of Alec’s shirt and brushes gently against the skin there. “What’s all this for?”

“You,” Alec responds instantly, smiling before turning back to the stove. “You’ve been working so much lately, we both have, and I thought you could use a break.”

Magnus leans his hip against the counter and watches Alec stir the paella. “And the music?” he says, tilting his head towards the stereo which is playing one of those old-timey love songs Alec listens to when he thinks Magnus isn’t home. To his delight, Alec blushes, but when he looks at Magnus there’s no embarrassment in his gaze. “A _romantic_ break,” he says without pause, though his ears are still beet red, and Magnus just has to lean forward to kiss him again.

“It’s lovely,” he murmurs. “Anything I can help with?”

Unsurprisingly, Alec rolls his eyes. “No, Magnus,” he says. “I did say it was a break.”

“And you also said we’ve both been working hard,” Magnus argues, coming up behind Alec to wrap his arms around his chest and lean his head against his shoulder. Alec relaxes into the touch, a small gesture that makes Magnus warm all over. The trust Alec places in him continues to astound Magnus with every passing day. “So what can I do to help?”

Alec sighs. “You can finish setting the table, then, if you’re so insistent.” Magnus grins, pressing a kiss into Alec’s shirt before stepping away to open the cutlery drawer. Alec has already laid out their best tablecloth, topped by a small bouquet of roses and a single flickering candle. The sight leaves Magnus breathless. Alec is endlessly caring, and unfailingly kind, often prone to buying Magnus spontaneous and heartbreakingly meaningful gifts—the omamori charm, for instance, only weeks after they’d first kissed. Magnus is used to being the person making the sweeping romantic gestures, but he’d never dreamed how lovely it would feel to be on the receiving end of them.

“Alexander,” he says, laying out the cutlery and gently brushing his finger against a rose petal. “Are you _wooing_ me?”

Alec laughs from the kitchen. “Depends,” he calls back. “Is it working?”

Magnus re-enters the kitchen to find Alec plating the paella. An unopened and _expensive_ bottle of red wine is sitting on the counter beside him. “Always,” Magnus tells his boyfriend, voice soft. Alec smiles.

They take dinner out to the table, Alec carrying the plates, Magnus the wine and two glasses. It’s wonderful, like Alec’s cooking always is. Magnus tells him so, delighting in the way the compliment makes his boyfriend blush. “I’ll have to show you my mother’s recipes, sometime,” Magnus says during the meal, and the look Alec gives him is worth the lump in his throat one hundred times over.

Once they’ve cleared their plates and made good headway into the shiraz, they migrate to the sofa. Magnus swings his legs over Alec’s lap and curls into the warmth of him, the wine probably having something, though not everything, to do with the lightness he feels building in his chest. “I have something for you,” Alec says after a moment, and Magnus tilts his head in confusion.

“Alexander, tonight has been lovely already, you don’t need to give me anything else.”

“Too late,” Alec says, pulling an envelope from God knows where and presenting it to Magnus, who takes it hesitantly. The envelope is tied in golden ribbon, which Magnus slowly undoes while Alec watches in expectant silence.

Inside is a mundane card, a—voucher, it looks like, to an all-expenses-paid spa day in the city. The writing swims before Magnus’ eyes. “Why?” he asks after a moment, looking at Alec who is smiling at him like he’s something precious.

“Because,” Alec shrugs, wrapping his hands around Magnus’ legs and tugging him forward. “Even warlocks need taking care of every once in a while.”

Magnus blinks quickly. Dinner was one thing, but this… He looks down at the card again. He can’t remember the last time someone gave him something so special—except, oh, he can, it was Alec, and the omamori charm, and it—it’s always Alec, Magnus realises. No matter what corner he turns in his mind, what memory comes to the surface—everything, it all leads back to Alec. Magnus has lived for over four centuries, he should have room in his head—and his heart—for more than a single shadowhunter, but if there is any space Alec doesn’t occupy, he can’t find it.

He can’t find it, and Magnus looks back up at Alec, and thinks, _oh._ He looks at Alec, who is still smiling at him, who is wearing that denim shirt Magnus likes probably because he _knows_ Magnus likes it, who cooked him dinner, who bought him top-shelf Italian wine, who continues to astound and delight Magnus at every turn.

“I’m so in love with you,” Magnus finally says, and it shouldn’t be as important as it feels because he’s said it before, they both have—but somehow, Alec seems to understand, understands like he always does in the end. He leans forward, plucks the card from Magnus’ slack grip and places it carefully on the table.

“I love you too,” he says when he turns back, and to Magnus it sounds like _I know, I know how you feel, I feel it too._

This time, when he kisses Alec, it tastes like wine and saffron and forever.


End file.
